


come sundown, say you'll remember my name

by earlgrey_milktea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Inspired by Studio Ghibli, Mentions of Blood, Owls, POV Second Person, Spirited Away AU, Youkai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 07:32:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10917234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgrey_milktea/pseuds/earlgrey_milktea
Summary: "You're lost, aren't you? Well, it doesn't matter now. Once night falls, Fukurodani won't let you leave."a spirited away au featuring lost children, forgotten names, soft fluttering of wings, and the magic that occurs in between the fall and rise of the sun.





	come sundown, say you'll remember my name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EatTheSystem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EatTheSystem/gifts).



> this is my piece for the hq ghibli zine, which will unfortunately not be going through as planned. however, a possible pdf collection might be released for download in the future!! and of course, all participants have now received go-ahead to post their works, which are absolutely stunning.
> 
> this fic is part of a collaboration with [Merritt](http://literarymerritt.tumblr.com/), who is a wonderful person to work with and i'm so glad we share a love of bokuaka and soft things!! please check out her arts!!  
> edit: here is the [link](http://literarymerritt.tumblr.com/post/160716954968/shh-do-you-remember-gold-eyes-bore-into-yours) to her pieces for this fic!!

Never go into the forest at sundown. Sundown is when children are spirited away, your father says.

But your father never told you about the pretty lights in this little ghost town hidden between the thick trees, how mesmerizing it is when the spirits rise from the corners of every shadow and lanterns float along behind them like escorts. _Youkai_ , your mind whispers.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

A pair of gold eyes stare down from the trees. The leaves rustle. There’s a glimpse of brown-speckled wings diving down and then you’re raising your arm with a cry, but it’s strange, like your arm is much too light—almost translucent. You gasp.

“You’re lost, aren’t you? Well, it doesn’t matter now. Once night falls, Fukurodani won’t let you leave.”

A boy stands before you, dressed in a simple jinbei, hair a forest of silver and black, an echo of a horned owl. He steps forwards, holding something in his hand. “Here, eat this.”

You shake your head, staring with increasing panic at your arms. They’re almost completely see-through by now.

“You have to eat something from this world, or you’ll disappear.”

He presses something soft against your lips until your mouth reluctantly opens. The berries are sour, but when you glance back down at your arms, they’re solid once more.

“You can’t stay here. Come on, Keiji.”

Before you know it, the boy is pulling you by the hand through the trees, following the trail of lights and wispy flames, dodging between the otherworldly beings. His hand fits around your own just right. You put one foot in front of the other, stumbling blindly with only the somehow familiar warmth of the other boy’s hand to guide you.

When you re-emerge back onto the path, there’s a wide, well-lit bridge, faded paint adorning the aging wood. You shrink back from the mass of spirits crossing the stream. In the distance, what looks like a castle looms through the mist, regal red walls and crafted roofs decorated with lanterns and gargoyles that have sprung to life.

The boy halts abruptly, and you run into his back. “Hold your breath as we cross the bridge, okay?”

“Why?”

“Or else they’ll know you’re human.” When you hesitate, the boy squeezes your hand. “Trust me, I know everything about Fukurodani. You could say I’m like the captain here!”

You’re still skeptical, but you let him lead you forwards. You cross the bridge without trouble, until a short-eared owl swoops in from above. Startled, a sharp breath escapes you.

“Bokuto-sama, you’re back! Who’s with y—Human?”

“Sorry, Komiyan.” Without breaking stride, the boy waves an arm, and the owl floats away gently, frozen in a bubble. Bokuto doesn’t stop until you’re both deep within the gardens.

“Keiji, listen. I need to go, but you have to find Kuroo. Ask him for a job. You’ll be safe then at least.”

“Kuroo?”

“Head to the top floor. You’ll know him when you see him.”

Bokuto pauses only long enough to squeeze your hand once more, then you are alone. Only when the clamour of voices calling out “Bokuto-sama!” reach your ears do you remember the danger you’re in. As you slip through the shoji overlooking the garden, there’s a fleeting thought on how Bokuto knows your name, or how those eyes seem to resonate with something in your chest, but soon you’re overwhelmed by the flurry of activity happening inside the castle.

Elegant screen walls and the beautifully crafted murals lining them strike you speechless. There are youkai wandering around in various states of undress, while servants in red run around with extra futons and trays of food in hand. Your eyes widen at the sight of horns and tails and glowing eyes blending in with the smaller, human-looking features. A fantastic vision right out of your strangest dreams.

Sniffing noses jolt you into action. You manage to squeeze into an elevator before anyone locates the source of that human stench, but a large beast shuffles in as the doors close. It doesn’t look at you, but you try your hardest to hold your breath anyway.

When the elevator dings, you’re first to stumble out, gasping. The youkai only blinks slowly. Hesitantly, you bow. The youkai bows back as the door closes.

Turning, you find yourself in front of an elaborately ornamented door. There are cats and owls, frozen in mid-scream and mid-flight, staring you down as you approach. Taking a deep breath, you enter.

“Ohoho,” a voice booms, “what do we have here?”

You duck as a shadow leaps down from overhead. A giant... black cat. Its golden eyes—dark and calculative unlike Bokuto’s bright magnetic ones—study you with a sharpness that makes you feel much, much smaller than you are. Instinctively, you straighten, staring back.

The cat cocks its head. “You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, human child?”

You swallow, but you don’t dare look away. “I’m here to ask for a job.”

“And why should I give you one?”

You don’t know the answer to that, so you remain silent.

“This place isn’t safe for you, human child. Go home.”

“I’m told to ask for a job from you, Kuroo-san. Please.”

The cat’s eyes narrow. “Told? By whom?”

Before you can answer, a loud crash sounds from the next room. The cat sighs. “Stay here.” It bounds away and disappears behind the red tapestries.

A breeze from the open windows raise goosebumps along your bare arms. You’re just peering into the empty fireplace when a door slams open and a tall masculine figure with hair messier than yours strolls in, looking rather harassed.

“Alright. You win, you get a job,” it says, striding over to the desk in the middle of the room and throwing papers around.

You blink. “Kuroo-san?”

Sharp gold eyes flick up, and it spares you a quick smirk. “Aren’t you a smart boy? What’s your name?”

“Keiji.”

Kuroo throws its head back and laughs. The sound sends shivers down your spine even as it seems to chase away the shadows. “Let me tell you something, boy. Names have power. You shouldn’t give yours away so freely.” A scroll floats in front of you along with an elegant brush dipped in ink. “Sign here. You’ll be granted safety in this bathhouse, but you’ll have to earn your name back.

“From now on, you’ll be known as... Kei.”

Before you can protest, Kuroo whistles loudly. “Bo! Show this fine young lad where to go.”

You recognize the surprisingly light footsteps, as if the boy is about to take flight any moment, and something like relief seeps into your bones. Bokuto doesn’t look at you, only beckons with one hand and begins to lead the way out of the room. Shrewd gold eyes follow you.

Only after you’re safely within the elevator do you risk speaking up. “Bokuto—”

“Bokuto-sama.” Bokuto stares straight ahead, face blank and standing too still.

Confused and a little hurt, you face forwards, too. You twist your fingers together to hide your shaking. The silence only makes the stinging behind your eyes hurt more.

When the elevator dings, Bokuto suddenly reaches over and grabs your hand, squeezing lightly.

“Promise me—don’t forget.”

He lets go just as the doors open, and you’re introduced as Kei, Kuroo’s new hire, don’t eat him or else. And then Bokuto is gone again.

 

 

 

 

You’re assigned to follow Konoha, who takes one look at you and sighs long enough for you to understand that despite appearances, Konoha isn’t human. Still, he’s nice enough to show you around the bathhouse, explaining how to work the baths and how to greet the guests.

Konoha sends you on another run for the bathwater cards. You’ve gotten used to weaving around the bustling corridors. You’ve lost count of how many days have passed, but the comments on your mortal stink have faded. The warmth in your palm from where Bokuto held your hand has also faded. You haven’t seen him since, and somehow that unsettles you more than the muted homesickness under your tongue.

Hurrying back with a hard-won card in your hand, a shadow flickers out the corner of your eye. A black shapeless mass hovers just outside the shoji screens, blending in with the rain, only a painted white mask indicating it’s real. You glance around, but the hallway is for once empty.

Warily, you approach. “Okyaku-sama,” you say, sliding the screens open. “Please come in. You’ll catch a cold.” You’re not really sure if youkai can catch colds, but Konoha has ingrained the habit of hospitality in you by now.

The shadow doesn’t move, so you bow slightly and excuse yourself. If you’re too slow, Konoha will steal all your onigiri for dinner.

 

 

 

 

“Why are you here, Kei?” Konoha asks one night, as you sit on the balcony outside of the workers’ rooms. He managed to sneak some nikuman from the kitchens. You nibble at yours, pretending you’re tasting the juiciness of the meat instead of bitter helplessness.

“I got lost.”

Konoha snorts. “Figures. You human brats are dumber than kappas. It’s a wonder Fukurodani let you in.”

Breaking off a piece of the bun, you watch it fall towards the sparkling waters below until you can’t see it anymore. “I didn’t ask to be here.”

“Yeah, yeah. But you’re doing a good job keeping up so far. Chin up, kid.” Konoha pats you on the shoulder before stretching and heading off to bed. Someone clicks off the lamps, leaving the moonlight to keep you company.

Somewhere above you, an owl hoots.

 

 

 

 

You wake to something poking your cheek. Arms flailing, you’re ready to scream before familiar gold eyes fill your sight.

“Shh,” Bokuto whispers. “Come with me.”

Movements sluggish, you tug on your hippari as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. Bokuto’s hair is down, making him look much younger, but his movements are no less graceful. You’re barely aware of the snores behind the paper screens as you tiptoe your way up the stairs, avoiding all the creaky parts.

Bokuto’s hand is around yours again, and the lump in your throat has receded, just a little.

You stop down a long corridor on a floor you’ve never been before. Bokuto pushes open the wooden door. Wind instantly brushes past, ruffling your curls. Outside, there’s a small balcony, then more stairs, but the rickety kind that no one raised in the human world of physics would trust, winding up and out of sight. Lazy streaks of sunlit pink brushes through vast expanses of green upon green stretching out from under your feet into the distance. The balconies where you sleep only ever faced the water.

Bokuto sweeps his arms out wide. “This is the Forest of Owls! It’s full of ancient magic, that’s why humans stay far away from it, but it’s breathtaking isn’t it?”

“Is that your home?”

“Yes! It’s absolutely beautiful, but scary, too, I guess. But it’s home.”

“How come you’re here and not there, then?”

A frown crosses Bokuto’s face. “I’m bound by contract to serve Kuroo. A favour for saving someone I shouldn’t have...” Gold eyes turn thoughtful as they land on you. “But it’s fine. Kuroo’s not that bad. They’re just doing their jobs, keeping the bridge open for spirits to enter Fukurodani.” Bokuto points to the left, and you follow his gaze past the rolling hills. “Beyond there is _your_ home.”

“Home,” you whisper, and then your eyes are burning but you don’t know why. “My home?”

A hand finds yours, and you squeeze it without thinking. Bokuto looks at you with something spelling melancholy on his face. He suddenly moves forwards and knocks your foreheads together, ignoring your alarmed yelp.

“Shh. Do you remember?”

Gold eyes bore into yours, and you think _starlight. warmth._ His hair tickles your skin, and you think _wings._ Your eyes widen.

“My name is Keiji,” spills out of your mouth, and a smile blooms on Bokuto’s face. He leans back, but you hold fast to his hand. “How did you do that? How did I forget? How did you remember?”

“I don’t know.” He tilts his head, glancing towards the forest. “Kuroo says Fukurodani claims your name when you stay, but...” He looks back at you. “I remember yours.”

“We’ve met before.” Something flutters at the edges of your memory, like feathers and the feeling of leaves brushing your hair.

“It’s okay.” Bokuto grins at you. “I’ll get you home, Keiji. I swear it.”

When you’re back scrubbing at the bathhouse floor and answering to another name, you find yourself swearing your own oath under your breath.

_I’ll remember your name, Bokuto._

 

 

 

 

The masked-shadow waits outside the bath you’re assigned to. It looks bigger than before. There’s a crowd gathered around the corner, whispering and muttering. Konoha grips your shoulder.

“You’re cleaning the upstairs rooms with Yukie today,” he says, and the rare seriousness in his pale eyes erases any thought of arguing.

“Who is that?”

Yukie shakes her head. “The guest showed up a few nights ago, but no one knows quite what it wants. Only that it eats, and pays in gold.” She sighs dreamily, dumping new futons on you. “Lots and lots of gold.”

The bustling downstairs rises to a din when you’re on break on the balconies. The waves are like white-noise, drowning out everything except your thoughts. It grows louder, until you’re squinting into the clear skies, and there—

Incoming—

Something’s hurtling towards you at high speed. You barely have time to leap out of the way before the screens are torn through and blood is splattered across the wooden planks.

An owl screeches. There’s a flurry of wings as paper dolls chase after the bird of prey. Snapping out of your shock, you slam the shoji shut and smack at the paper until they fall to the floor. The struggle behind you ceases. The bed rolls are a mess, but you’re focused on the bloody owl lying motionless in the corner.

“Bokuto? It—It’s you, right?”

Golden eyes blink up at you, but they’re dim, hazy with pain. He’s much larger than you expected. You step closer, but something flashes in his eyes, something wild, dangerous. There’s a sharp hoot, then he’s launching himself out the window again, fumbling upwards, slamming into the side of the building unsteadily.

“Kuroo-san,” you breathe, and then you’re stumbling out of the room.

It’s strangely quiet in the hallways. As you round the corner, you find out why. Workers of all shapes and sizes are holding up plates piled high, trying to please, and the masked-shadow sits in the middle of it all, like a bloated king.

“Kei,” Konoha calls, and you see the shadow turn towards you. It watches you step closer. Distantly, you’re aware of the crowd falling quiet, but you only see the shadow reach out, forming cupped hands from its growing blob-like body.

Gold spills out onto the floor. It glints under the lanterns strung from the ceilings, but you flinch. It’s nothing compared to the radiance of gold eyes you know. You shake your head.

“I don’t need it. I’m sorry, someone needs me right now.”

The hands drop the gold and hover in front of your face. Begging. There’s an air of desperation about the shadow that threatens to drown you. You don’t look back as you run. Not even when the screams begin.

 

 

 

 

“Bokuto!” you shout as you burst through the door to Kuroo’s room. Only this room is filled with pillows, and no black cats are in sight.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The words are familiar, but the voice is too soft. Yellow eyes peer at you.

You stare back. “I’m looking for Bokuto.”

The pillows shift, and a kid about your age appears. There are cat ears protruding from their black-blond hair. They twitch. “You’re the human, aren’t you? Kei?”

“Keiji,” you correct automatically. The cat-kid only blinks slowly. “Sorry for disturbing you, but—Bokuto. He’s hurt.”

Those yellow eyes appraise you again. Then, their tail flicks to the right. “He crashed in there.”

A trail of blood and feathers lead into the next room. The windows are open, and Bokuto, now a boy, lies still on the floor. You’re aware of another pair of footsteps following you as you cross the room.

“That looks bad.”

You don’t bother responding. There is dried blood on Bokuto’s arms, but you only find scratches. He stirs, confused gold eyes finding yours before he flinches out of reach. He looks scared.

Keeping your voice soft, you reach out a hand. “I won’t hurt you.”

It takes a minute or an eternity before he leans forwards to allow your touch. His skin is warm. You brush his limp hair out of his face, and watch his eyes fall shut. He doesn’t open them again.

“Kuroo-san,” you say. “Where is he?”

“He’s not in the bathhouse right now.”

“Where is he?” you repeat, catching Bokuto as he slumps against your shoulder. He’s slightly bigger than you, but at that moment, he’s never seemed so small.

A pause. “If you go, you might not come back, you know?”

“Please.”

There’s a heavy sigh, but the cat-kid nods. “Kenma,” they add as an afterthought.

“Thank you... Kenma.”

 

 

 

 

Kenma leads you down winding hallways until you’re standing outside, at a dock, staring down at the train-tracks in the water.

“You have a friend,” Kenma says.

You turn to find the shadow, free of its extra weight, waiting expectantly. Shifting Bokuto on your back, you ask, “Are you coming with us?”

There’s no answer. Kenma tugs on your sleeve. “The train’s here.”

The shadow drifts a few feet behind as you board the train. There’s not a single soul inside. Kenma lounges on the seat, stretching languidly. You hold Bokuto close, listening to his soft breathing against your neck.

By the time the train pulls up to its terminal stop, sundown has arrived. Kenma slouches ahead, and the shadow trails after. It’s a silent procession down the hollow roads. Bokuto grows heavy on your back, but you don’t dare let go.

Kenma stops suddenly. A door swings open from the trees. The shadow quivers behind you. You step through first, and then—

Light washes over you like a dream.

“You made it, huh.”

Kuroo the cat stares at you with a careless grin. Kenma immediately curls up by its side, and when you blink, a smaller tabby cat replaces your guide.

“Bokuto,” you say, laying the boy down. “He’s—”

“Sleeping.” Kuroo nudges him. “He saved you a second time, didn’t he? The contracts were not so forgiving. If only he can remember his name.” The cat glances up at you. “You remember, right?”

You stare down at Bokuto. Your empty hand throbs. “I-I think so.”

“Good. It’s time I let him go, anyway. Forest spirits are migratory, you know?” Kuroo’s eyes narrow as they slide behind you. “Now, your little shadow here...”

The masked-shadow looms imposingly behind you. You turn back to Kuroo. “I think it wants something from me.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo sighs, “it’s time to give its name back. Gods, I’m tired of this job.”

“Then quit,” Kenma mutters, eyes still closed.

“You know I can’t, kitten.” Kuroo sits up. “Go, human child. Take Bo with you. I’ll return Kei’s name, but you—you have to return his. Before sunrise, you hear, boy?”

When Bokuto wakes, you walk with him outside. The stars sparkle above as he shifts back into a bird.

“Will you take me home?”

Round, gold eyes blink at you. He nips are your clothes. You wave back at the cats and the masked-shadow, and then you’re taking to the skies.

“I remember,” you whisper against Bokuto’s soft feathers, and you think you hear him hum. “I remember your name.”

The next thing you know, you’re falling and there is a boy holding your hand, and you’re both crying but his eyes are the most beautiful gold you’ve ever seen.

 

 

 

 

On the first day of your first year of senior high, you step out from the opening ceremony into bright sunlight. There’s a pleasant breeze rustling the trees in the courtyard, and absently, you turn your head, searching for something you can’t quite name.

And then, there, above the heads of your fellow first years, a pair of gold eyes catch yours, and the whole world fades. You hear the running water of a bath, the rumbling of a train, the whisper of feathery wings through night sky.

The boy is suddenly in front of you, with your name forming on his lips like it’s made for him to say. He smiles, and the hollow aching that’s been rattling in your ribcage since you came stumbling back out of the forest at the first ray of light all those years ago—the strange homesickness for something, some _one_ , always just out of grasp in your dreams—disappears.

“I remember,” you say, your hand slipping into his naturally, easily, “I remember your name.”

_I’m home, Koutarou._

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> as always, come yell about volleyowls at me @puddingcatbae on tumblr or twitter
> 
> remember to check out [the hq ghibli zine blog](https://hq-ghibli-zine.tumblr.com/) for all the other phenomenal works and collaborations!! and keep an eye out for a possible pdf collection in the future (:


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